Amy Dallon, Herald of Andraste

[DigitalKitsune]

you know amy might actually be able to kill the blight if she ever gets her hands on a dark spawn?
hell she might be able to fix blighted areas too?
but would she even do it is a good question?

Click to shrink...

IMO at best the blight is too metaphysical and too spicy for Shaper to do anything with it aside from healing recently infected. At worst, Shaper gets corrupted like dragon gods. (Evacuate the local multiversal cluster)

 

[Kylia Quilor]

Author's Note: Now that Amy isn't in the same sort of crisis situation she was in the last few chapters, we'll get to see our favorite failgirl fall apart. As I did warn, this story is going to linger on Amy's issues at times, and that means, especially when it does linger, that the pacing may be a bit slow. Amy's got a lifetime of mess to work through, and it's not gonna be fast.

---

Amy didn't dream often.

First of all, to dream, you needed to sleep, and Amy didn't do enough of that. Secondly, when she did get to sleep, it was usually that she was finally so exhausted that she managed to sleep without dreaming, or at least without remembering anything.

When she did dream, she didn't usually have the nice dreams - the dreams where she got away from the Bay and from healing and just... got to live somewhere quiet. Where she could try to read books again and find someone who wasn't her sister to love and maybe have a pet cat and - and -

Just... be free. Not have everything crushing down on her.

No. Her dreams were usually nightmares. Usually about her family finding out about what she could do, about losing control of herself, her power, about hurting someone. Hurting Vicky. About Vicky finding out how she felt and - and - not just rejecting her (inevitable) but leaving her, abandoning her. Being all alone.

She sometimes had dreams about Carol, and her axe and standing over her - Carol had never threatened her, but she remembered being afraid of her, when she'd first come to life with the Dallons. She'd been afraid of a lot of things then, though...

But as she startled awake, a dream still lingering in her memory, Amy could confidently say she'd never had a dream or a nightmare like the one she'd just been having - some land of medieval bullshit and magic and a giant rift in the sky and demons and -

Amy's thoughts ran to a screeching halt as she realized several things, all at once.

This was not her bed. It was warm, warmer than she usually kept her bed outside of the deepest, coldest nights of winter - it felt like she had like two comforters piled on top of her. The blankets and the sheets were scratchy, rough - not a lot, but nothing like the sheets on her own bed. It also wasn't as soft, and the pillow wasn't squishing under her head right and -

And it was colder, on her face, and her neck, exposed above the blankets. Not freezing, but distinctly chill.

Her hand hurt. Her left hand. A dull, ache she wished she could say was unfamiliar, but it was actually terrifyingly familiar.

It was less, less intense, less... distracting, than the stabbing ache that had been her constant companion in that trek through a frozen valley to the ruins of a temple and closing a rift into another dimension and facing demons and -

But it was there. It was the same thing.

No.

Amy's eyes snapped open. Her head hurt. She needed coffee. And she needed to look around and see her own bedroom. Or like, a bed in a hospital. On Earth-Bet.

But she wasn't.

The ceiling above her was wood, and rustic. The whole room around her was rustic, lit by a brazier - that was the right word, right? - and with sunlight streaming in through an open window. The inside looked like the inside of a log cabin, or - there were furs mounted on the walls, the top cover on the bed looked like it was made from some kind of animal fur, and -

Amy's breath caught.

It was all real.

It wasn't a dream.

She was -

She wasn't home. She wasn't on Earth-Bet. She -

She wasn't -

Vicky. Amy screwed her eyes shut, trying to breath, trying to -

Rapid, shallow inhalations, exhalations, her heart in her chest, blood pounding in her ears.

It was all real. She was on another Earth, and she didn't have the slightest idea how to get home or when and her family probably thought she was dead and - and -

This stupid mark on my hand is still here! It wasn't glowing, much, but it was still there, all green lines all over her left hand... she blinked, tears rapidly gathering, feeling light-headed - she couldn't - she needed to -

She needed to breathe. She needed to -

Amy bit the inside of her cheek, trying to bring herself to focus, to -

I will get home. I'll see Victoria again. She'd closed the Breach. And - and that had to prove she was innocent so she wasn't going to die here right? No execution. And - then someone would help her figure out how to get home. Magic was real, so that meant someone would know dimension crossing magic? She'd ended up here, somehow.

So obviously she could go back. She had to be able to.

She had to.

She had to.

She repeated that over and over and over in her mind. She would get home. Somehow. She'd see her sister again.

Amy's nearly hiccuped as she tried to draw in a deep breath, and she tried to center herself, looking around. The bed was... the blanket under the fur-one had a weird, kinda geometric design, gold on black? Leaves? Sorta? There was a table, sort of desklike, by the window. A cup was on it.

Amy swallowed, licking her lips - she was thirsty. When was the last time she'd had anything to drink? How long had she been asleep?

Focus on that. Focus - focus. She was - she was going to see her sister again, but she just had to - she just had to keep her mind on what was in front of her.

Next to the cup on the table were her robes, folded, and - and the rest of her clothes.

They undressed me!? Amy felt her cheeks get hot.

It happened, of course, treating patients and god knows she might have been dying of hypothermia by the end for all she knew - it had been fucking cold out there, even in the temple that was still smouldering and there was that fight against that purple lightning-spewing thing and then the rift and -

Amy looked down at herself again. She was wearing some sort of... dress? Long, and kinda thin? Like a hospital gown? Or more like a nightgown, maybe. It was a plain, brown, worn fabric. Scratchy, but not... not horribly so.

Okay. Get dressed. And - and I hope that's water in the cup and I - I need to make sure they're not drugging the water somehow but -

If they wanted to drug her they had the chance. She wasn't chained up or tied up or anything this time, when she woke up...

Get dressed. Drink water. Make sure it's clean with my power first. She couldn't just stick a finger into water and kill all the shit in it, but she could at least make sure it wasn't filled with like, shit and god knows whatever else could end up in the water in the middle ages.

Didn't they all drink ale because the water was bad? Or was that just movies and the YA fantasy novels she read, back - back when she'd had...

Back when she'd still been able to enjoy books.

Amy shook her head. No. She needed to - she closed her eyes, tried to take a proper deep breath. She mostly managed to succeed this time but -

Focus. Focus. Focus.

Her sister would be focusing. Dealing with what was in front of her. Victoria could handle this.

I just... I just have to ask what Vicky would do...

And then maybe be a little less reckless and a lot less of a fucking nerd than her sister. She loved Vicky more than her own life, but she could get so into powers and how they worked and - Amy just didn't get it. It didn't matter, where they came from and the theories and -

They were here. She had one. And it was ruining her life. And saving so many others...

Except now, she couldn't save anyone in Brockton Bay. How many people were going to die there, because - because she wasn't there? And if her sister got hurt and she wasn't -

Vicky hasn't gotten seriously hurt since that day at the mall. Amy swallowed, latching onto that thought. Her sister could be reckless, but she'd learned her lesson about the limits of her forcefield. Victoria would be fine.

She'd be fine.

Amy was going to find a way home and she was going to see her again and until then -

Until then she was just going to have to -

She was going to have to focus on what was right in front of her.

Swallowing again, Amy licked chapped, dried lips and rubbed at her head. She needed coffee. Was that even a thing in this medieval shithole? Did they have coffee in the middle ages?

I suppose I could do with Tea, if that's all they have but please fucking let there be coffee... She felt less like a zombie than she usually did after waking up, but she'd probably gotten more than five hours of sleep, so...

Get dressed. Drink water. See if I can even leave this little... shack? House? One room hut? Cabin? What even is it? Where am I? What even happened? She'd closed the Breach, so...

Amy was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Her head snapped back towards it - a woman, pointed ears - elf - carrying some kind of crate -

The woman let out a small startled shout and dropped the crate - the sound of something glass or clay jostling and maybe breaking rang out and the elf stepped back, eyes wide.

"I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" She said quickly, sounding - awed? Terrified? Amy couldn't tell.

Amy stared at her a moment, mouth moving wordlessly, and -

"Where - why - what-" Amy closed her mouth, flushing, floundering.

"That's wrong, isn't it? I said the wrong thing?"

"No? I don't - what the fuck?" Amy cut off whatever she'd been saying as the elf dropped the ground, fucking prostrating herself, forehead pressed to the ground, arms stretched out before her.

What the fuck?

"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant."

Oh no. Amy stared at the woman. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuckfuckfuck -

Cape cultists had been a thing, when Capes first happened. Even a few still were around now, but the fact that capes could die, sometimes insanely easily, and that the PRT didn't really like people openly worshipping Protectorate heroes.

I can heal shit, and I - fuck, it's not even the healing isn't it? There was a giant massive hole in the sky and demons - whatever the hell they actually were - had fallen through it and - and Amy had closed it.

If people could worship capes back home, then why wouldn't a bunch of medieval people think she was - a god? An angel? A saint?

"Stop! Get up! I'm not - I don't have any fucking blessings to give!" Amy said quickly, feeling herself breathing heavily again. She closed her eyes. Everyone's going to look at me. It's going to be right after my debut all over again. So many people stopping her in the streets, at school -

"I - I'm sorry for - I did not mean to presume-" the elf stammered out, lifting herself up a bit, sort of on all fours, still looking studiously at the ground. "They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing."

Just stopped growing? Not closed? Okay, so not growing was good, no 'swallow the whole world' and all, but - that wasn't solving the problem.

And since Amy was the one with the fancy glowing mark on her hand, then -

I'm going to have to - If they still needed her to close it... Amy couldn't just - she had to stay at least long enough to do that? If this stupid mark was the only way...

She couldn't leave all the people who might get hurt by demons (fuck it still felt weird to say that. There had to be - demons couldn't be real and yet they were or at least they were something and she didn't think they were tinkertech or projections anymore but what the fuck were they?!) if the Breach wasn't closed and -

"It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days." the elven woman added added, finally looking up at her.

"Three DAYS?!" Amy didn't mean to screech that last word out so high - didn't even realize she had until she saw the woman flinch a little as she slowly stood up. "I was out for three days?!" She didn't feel like - she didn't feel like she was starving, so they must have... they didn't have IVs here but -

Broth maybe? Lots of broth and water down my throat while I slept?

But she was out for three days? And - and then there's -

Amy swallowed.

"Yes, your worship," the woman answered. "I - they - Lady Cassandra - she wanted to know as soon as you woke up." She started backing away, towards the door. "At once, she said. At once!"

Before Amy could even begin to process being called 'your worship', the woman was out of the door and closing it behind her, scampering off like she was terriifed of Amy. Amy wrapped her arms around her stomach, gut churning, throat tight.

All that shit and the Breach still isn't even closed. Fuck. And now - now she -

There were going to be so many eyes on her. And -

"I...I guess they're not going to put me on trial, at least?" Amy said, desperately grabbing onto something that might be a bright side. But was it actually the bright side? She bit her lip, then looked down at her hand, tracing the marks.

She wanted - she wanted to be back in the Bay. Back home. She wanted her own bed and her own room and her sister and she'd even take a lecture from Carol or one of her textbook disapproving glares or -

Amy felt tears in her eyes and she didn't hold them back, bursting into sobs, feeling wetness trailing down her cheeks. She wasn't even sure exactly why she was crying. Not which thing, not which problem pushed her over the edge.

There was a whole raft of reasons to cry. She was trapped on another Earth, and she didn't have the slightest idea how to get home, or if she ever would. If she'd ever see her sister again. If she'd see Carol, or Mark, or her cousins, her Aunt, her Uncle. She had this stupid mark on her hand and the Breach was still there and what else would she have to deal with to see that fixed? She was apparently the object of worship and - and -

And then there was the fact that the Earth she was on was some medieval shithole where magic was a thing and biology didn't even begin to make sense and - and - demons and -

She was never going to see her sister again, was she?

So far, no parahumans. No tinkers. Tinkertech is how people found about and - and contacted Earth-Aleph, right? So - so how -

How could she get home? Could magic send her home? Magic wasn't a thing on Earth-Bet, so -

"Vicky..." Amy whispered, grabbing the pillow behind her and hugging it tight against her, feeling herself rock back and forth on the bed, sniffling, nose starting to stuff up - she kept bawling, unable to stop herself, and not wanting to.

What was there left? No Victoria, no... no Carol, no - no Mark, nothing. She had nothing. Just herself. And and that - and that wasn't anything.

Eventually the tears started to slow, and then stop, but more because she had no tears left to cry, than managing to make herself stop. The pillow was soaked, the nightgown was pretty wet too, at least near the top... she swallowed, lips and mouth and throat even drier, making the whole motion almost painful.

Sniffling, Amy slowly put the pillow down, taking in a slow, shuddering breath.

Victoria wouldn't cry like that. Her sister would miss her, and miss Carol and Mark too, more than she did, but Vicky wouldn't become a sobbing mess. She'd -

She'd focus on the problem in front of her. And try to figure it out. This wasn't powers - though her sister wouldn't have had any way to know that and - and would probably still think that Solas was a Parahuman and that the demons were projections...

Like the fucking nerd Vicky was, she'd try to figure it all out. How it worked and what it all meant and how to fit it into all those Parahuman Studies books she'd read and -

Amy wasn't her sister. But her sister was the best hero - best person - Amy knew. Amy could never even hope to be even close to as amazing as Vicky, but...

Right now, Vicky would focus on the fact that the - the Breach is still a thing, apparently. And she'd handle the worship better. Vicky loved her fan clubs, her meet and greets. The publicity events. She thrived on attention and notice and -

Vicky wasn't vain, whatever idiots on PHO that Amy maybe got into fights with online using an alt account thought. She wasn't self-centered or an egomaniac, but - she enjoyed the spotlight. She wouldn't like being treated - treated like some sort of saint or... having people bow down to her...

Okay, she might like it for a little bit, but it would get old, quickly...

Amy tried to take another breath, then sniffled, swallowed dryly and looked to the cup on the desk. She got out of the bed, bare feet on a cold wooden floor and walked over to the table by the window, picking up the clay cup and looking inside. It looked like water. Smelled like it - or rather, didn't smell.

Power, time for you to do the only thing I actually almost like about you and make sure I don't get diarrhea or whatever from anything in this water.

At the first touch of the cold, refreshing liquid against her lips, Amy started greedily glugging it down, finishing off the whole thing almost faster than she could really realize she was doing it. She smacked her lips, tongue darting out to catch a few drops off her upper lip.

Amy stood there, swallowing again, taking another few breaths.

Okay. Breach. A thing. And - and - maybe most people aren't all... beg for blessings? Maybe? It was a plaintive, wishful thought, but she latched onto that.

Her sister would keep trying to get home, there was no doubt about that. But she wouldn't abandon all the people that needed help here, not if she was the only person who could help. And - and -

Amy couldn't either. Not just because it wasn't what Vicky would do but -

If she tried it, Amy knew the guilt would eat her alive. It would be worse than when she laid in bed, unable to sleep, all the people at hospitals suffering, hurting, dying because she wasn't there...

All the people in Brockton Bay she couldn't heal, because she was here -

I'm not there. I couldn't heal anyone in the Bay right now no matter what. It's like getting upset about people in hospitals in L.A.

Amy barked a hollow laugh. As if she didn't get worked up over that sometimes, when she had too much time to her thoughts, on a bad day. All the people she'd never be able to help, all the people dying all over the world she couldn't save, because she had to sleep and continue just figure out ways to heal faster and - and

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Amy bit her lower lip again, trying - and failing - to banish those thoughts. She didn't manage that, but she at least was able to return her main focus to the reality in front of her.

Amy looked at her clothes, folded up neatly on the table. They'd been cleaned - no blood on her robes, and her robes and her shirt had had the rips from that shade's claws sewn closed - it was a little obvious, but they'd made the effort, at least.

Robes in hand, Amy shivered. Out of the bed, the air was mostly brisk, rather than freezing, but all she was wearing was this scratchy nightgown...

Panacea didn't mean anything here. Her robes didn't mean anything. And they weren't exactly thick, but - it was something.

The window had wooden shutters that came inward, and she pushed them closed. She rubbed at her forehead.

Coffee. She was never going to have coffee again, was she?

She started to tug the nightgown off, but before she could do more than lift it as far her chin, the door opened and Amy let out an involuntary 'eek', jumping backwards, hands falling to her sides and the dress settling back down on her shoulders.

Katerina was standing in the doorway, ducking just a touch to get through the door. Her red hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, her sword slung over her back and wearing her armor.

"Amy, Lady Pentaghast and the others need to speak with you -" Katerina cut herself off, closing the door behind her. "Are you alright? You've been crying?" Katerina asked quickly, concern in voice, her posture, she came a little closer to her, reaching a hand out, and Amy pulled back. Her expression - genuine, concerned, worried - it reminded her of fucking Dean and all his well-meaning 'I just want to help you, talk to me' bullshit, the few times he'd tried to get her to open up.

Prying into her emotions with his stupid fucking powers and -

"I don't want to talk about it," Amy snapped. "Get out so I can change!" She pulled her hands down her face, trying to wipe away any remaining errant tears, trying to make it less obvious she'd been crying. Pointless, probably, but she didn't need anyone pestering her about it. Asking for details and -

Amy took a breath. "Go!" She gestured at Katerina.

Katerina hesitated a moment, opened her mouth, and then nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll be right outside. Don't dally, Lady Pentaghast is not the most patient of women."
"Really. I couldn't have guessed." Amy snarked. She rubbed at her head. Was there anything that had caffeine? At this point she'd take fucking tea.

Katerina chuckled, "Fair enough." She stepped back outside, waiting and Amy pulled off the nightgown, tossing it on the bed and putting on her clothes. Underneath her clothes were a few things - her official New Wave phone, which was borderline useless here, since she couldn't call anyone. It had a really good battery, and was pretty fancy in general, not quite tinkertech but inspired by and derived by a lot of tinkertech. The battery could even be recharged in the sun, slowly, though it wasn't good for the battery's long-term life, apparently.

She picked it up, pressing a button, but the phone was dead. Good battery or not, it had been on for god knew how long. She knew what she'd have seen if it was still working - her lock screen: Vicky hugging her with one arm, both of them looking at the Camera, her sister's other arm out of the screen - holding her phone to take the picture. Amy was smiling, Victoria was smiling...

It had been one of Amy's rare good days, a day she'd been able to mostly forget to feel guilty, hadn't ruined everything with her disgusting feelings, had just... been able to enjoy spending the day with her favorite person.

Amy blinked back tears, eyelids fluttering quickly and looked away from the phone. She... she'd worry about deciding if it was worth charging the battery or -

She stuffed the phone in her pocket. Apart from that - her wallet, with her ID (actual and student) and some dollar bills, a few coins and a picture of Victoria taking off. A wrapper for some kind of tasteless energy bar she'd eaten hours before the bomb that had taken her here. She remembered stuffing it into her mouth and then shoving the wrapper into her pocket and getting back to work...

She'd only eaten it because one of the nurses had pestered her to eat something, and it was easier to do that than block her out.

I guess they didn't know what it was and didn't throw it away?

Amy didn't bother taking the wallet or the wrapper, and then she looked at her robes. They were warmer than nothing, and they had a hood. If people were going to stare at her or... or worse, then being able to hide her face was at least better than nothing.

At least nobody will be calling me Panacea here. No pretending that there was actually some sort of separation between her and her cape identity. Even years on, she still didn't get why everyone else in New Wave insisted on using cape names when in costume.

Amy approached the door.

She wanted to go back to the bed, get under the covers and just... pretend. Pretend this wasn't happening. Pretend she was going to go to sleep and wake up back home and this was all going to be a dream.

It wasn't.

And -

Amy looked at her left hand, at the faintly glowing lines of the mark. It still ached, but barely. A very dull, distant sort of ache, easy to forget, especially with how much her head hurt.

Coffee.

She took a breath, pulled her hood over her face as much as she could and grabbed the door handle, opening it.

Brisk air rushed in, hitting her face full blast. Katerina was standing in front, and past her, two more soldiers, standing at attention... with fists clasped to their chests. The local version of a salute.

Amy looked away from them, ignoring Katerina say they needed to move, and turned her eyes upward. The Breach was still there, up in the sky, but it looked... calmer, less angry. It wasn't expanding, and her mark wasn't doing the thing it had before, where it randomly started spiking in pain as the Breach expanded so...

At least I accomplished something. What had she done wrong? Had she not held her hand right for long enough? Or - or had the rift not been good enough?

Maybe we do need to fly up there?

Amy heard murmurings and voices ahead, and she looked back down, past Katerina and the guards and her heart plummeted in her chest at the assembled mass of people - some wearing red and white robes kind of like the ones Chancellor Roderick had, more soldiers, and just... people. Civilians? The people who lived here in Haven? She was back in Haven, right? Seemed like it...

They were all looking at her, and all the soldiers had fists pressed against their chests and -

Amy closed her eyes. She took another deep breath.

Katerina's hand touched her shoulder.

"Amy?"

Amy let out a small 'ah' and jumped a little, opening her eyes and looking up at Katerina - literally, as she was reminded how much taller than her the other woman was.

"I don't suppose there's any chance you can make them all go away?"

Katerina blinked for a moment, then looked back over her shoulder and then back to Amy. "No? I - they all want to see you. Nothing wrong with people getting a chance to thank their savior."

"I didn't save anyone. That thing," she gestured at the hole in the sky, "is still there."

"It's not expanding anymore. It's not raining balls of fire. No new rifts are opening around the village. It's better than things were before you started sealing rifts," Katerina pointed out. "I can't just make everyone go away."

"Fine. Just - keep them away from me." Amy muttered. "Make sure they don't - thank me or - ask for my blessing or whatever."

"...ask for your blessing?" Katerina furrowed her brow. "Are you giving those out now?"

"No!" Amy half-shouted, flushing when she realized everyone would have heard that. She lowered her voice, "I don't have any fucking blessings to give! That - the - woman who told Cassandra that I was awake fucking prostrated herself and asked for my blessing and - I don't - I don't have one. Why would she even do that?"

"Well, you can heal people with a touch - without using magic -, you did save us from the Breach getting worse, and... everyone's calling you the Herald of Andraste." Katerina ticked them off on her fingers.

That name. It rang a bell, but it took Amy a moment to remember. The Temple of Sacred Ashes. Katerina had muttered something about it being the resting place of 'Andraste'. Sacred Ashes, temple, resting place. Obviously some kind of like... holy person.

"Who the fuck is Andraste?" Then Amy shook her head. "Nevermind, I don't fucking care. I'm not a Herald of anyone or anything. I'm not holy, I'm not - I don't have any blessings and my power isn't one either." Amy pulled her robes tighter around herself. "Let's... let's just get this over with. You said Cassandra isn't very patient."

"True." Katerina started off, and Amy followed her, staying as close as she could, having to pick up her pace to match Katerina's stride, but it wasn't like the other woman was trying to move quickly, so it wasn't hard. She heard the murmurs more clearly, as they passed, people on both sides of them.

"That's her... that's the Herald of Andraste."

"They say she's a mage."

"I heard she doesn't use magic. But she still healed Jacen." Another said. "He was dying and then she touched him and he wasn't. She's blessed by the Maker."

"Impossible. She's just a mage. Look, she's got robes!"

Amy tried to ignore them, but it was hard.

"They say when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her."

Right yeah, a dead woman was personally watching over me.

A part of Amy pointed out that this was a world where magic and elves and demons and fuck if she knew what else was real, but Amy was going to draw the line at ghosts, damnit! There had to be some fucking sanity in the world!

Amy didn't say anything. Back when she'd started healing, when her power was new and there was still an almost enjoyable novelty to it all, she'd argued with people who had said her powers were a gift from God, or thanked God for sending her to them or... whatever else.

It hadn't gone anywhere, and eventually Amy had given up on it. Here, where she didn't even have a passive, loose understanding of the religion?

"Hush, we shouldn't disturb her," another said, and Amy shrunk in on herself more. Even with her robes and her hood, random people could tell how fucking pathetic she was.

"You said it was Cassandra and the others. Who exactly are the others?" Amy asked, trying to avoid thinking about the people staring, as they started to finally get close to the end of the knot of people assembled on the path. Up ahead she could see the big stone building that she'd woken up in originally, her prison in the basement...

"Leliana, I assume?" She asked. The older redheaded woman had seemed to be as in charge of things as Cassandra. She'd said something about being the 'left hand' of Divine Justinia. So... important person.

"Lady Pentaghast and Sister Leliana, yes," Katerina answered, looking back over her shoulder a moment as she talked. "Commander Cullen and Lady Montilyet are there as well."

"...I have no idea who those people are." Amy pointed out once Katerina didn't follow through on explaining anything. "Not from Thedas, remember?" She was going to have to repeat herself on that front a lot, wasn't she. That and 'my power isn't magic'. Though Cassandra and Solas had both confirmed it, so obviously mages and the people who had policed them had some way of... detecting magic?

Fuck, I feel like an idiot even entertaining all this. But it was the reality she was dealing with. Maybe there was a scientific answer, maybe there wasn't - either way, Amy didn't care. It was magic, for all intents, apparently. Not powers, not tinkertech. Magic.

"Commander Cullen is in charge of all the soldiers here," Katerina explained.

"So... your boss?"

"My commanding office, yes, more or less." Katerina agreed. "Lady Montilyet is some sort of noblewoman from Antiva. A diplomat, I think." The swordsman shrugged, "probably was supposed to help with the negotiations before the explosion..." Katerina trailed off, and went silent for a long moment as they kept going. They passed another smaller group, and Amy caught part of their quiet discussion as these people too stared at her.

"...the Breach is still there though."

"...stopped it getting worse..."

"...smaller rifts still all over. Near the crossroads."

"...can close those too..."

Amy grit her teeth and let out a frustrated breath. More of those rifts. And she had to close those too, since who the fuck else could, huh?

"More rifts?"

"That's the rumor." Katerina confirmed. "Probably one of the things Lady Pentaghast wants to talk to you about."

"She didn't say?"

"No," Katerina shook her head. "She just told me to fetch you."

"Fun." She let out another long, exasperated breath as they finally reached the big stone structure. A church, maybe? Or whatever they called those here. Temple?

The heavy-looking wooden double doors were painted with a yellow sunburst pattern. There were a bunch more of those red and white robed people clustered around - priests and priestesses? - talking, but they got quieter as Amy and Katerina got closer. One of them started to approach.

"Lady Pentaghast needs to speak to her immediately," Katerina cut in before the man - an older man just starting to go gray - could do more than open his mouth. After a moment, he nodded and stepped back. Amy muttered a thanks to Katerina, and then watched Katerina push the double doors open, revealing the interior of the building.

"Just ahead, through that door there at the far end," Katerina gestured, past the pillars and the torches blazing in metal holders - Amy couldn't remember the right word for them.

"...At least I know they're not going to put me on trial if they think I'm some holy fucking savior." Amy murmured to herself.

"Hessarian burned Andraste to death before deciding maybe she had the right idea, so I wouldn't count on it," Katerina offered, and then turned, having the gall to fucking grin for just a moment after saying it. "But Roderick has been insisting you be dragged to Val Royeaux for trial for the last two days and no one's been listening to him so you're probably fine."

"...you suck at reassuring people."

"Somehow, I think false reassurance would annoy you more," Katerina countered. Then she took a breath, and her expression was more somber. "I don't know what's going to happen, but you were brave enough to stick with us through all those demons even though you're not a fighter."

It wasn't bravery. She just didn't have any other choice. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she hadn't kept going.

"So I should be brave enough to handle this?" Amy cocked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Oh, Lady Pentaghast is more terrifying than any demon," Katerina chuckled. "But she is a fair woman, and a good one. She's famous. They even named her a Hero of Orlais for her actions protecting Divine Beatrix from blood magi. Killed a dragon and everything."

"Dragons?" Amy rolled her eyes. "Of course there are fucking dragons here too."

"You say you're not from Thedas, and you seem surprised that elves, dwarves and dragons exist, but you know what they are?"

"Because they're fantasy! Fairy tales! Things dreamed up by people's imaginations! And now here I am in a place where it's all real!" Amy bit her lower lip. "I used to read stories about magic and dragons and heroic adventures in places like this." Back before everything had become too much. She hadn't planned on giving up on books - for years, they'd been her primary retreat from the stresses of living with Carol and not really having friends and -

And then she'd gotten her powers and... she just sort of stopped. Stopped reading, stopped wanting to read, stopped being able to enjoy it...

"I never wanted to live through them." Amy said quieter, looking down at the floor. "I don't need this crap." She looked at her left hand again, glaring at the faintly glowing marks. "Why couldn't the stupid Breach have just been closed?"

"Not a clue. But with any luck, Lady Pentaghast or one of the others has a theory." Katerina offered. "Go on, you really shouldn't keep her waiting."

"What is she going to do, kill the healer? Kill the person that can close these rifts and the Breach?" Amy chuckled darkly, humorlessly.

"Worse. She'll yell at you." Katerina answered with a grin, before turning back and leaving the building, the heavy wooden doors swinging shut behind her.

Can't be worse than Carol giving me shit. Amy swallowed and took a breath, and then proceeded through the large, open empty space to the far end. As she got closer, she heard voices:

"Have you gone completely mad?!" That sounded like Chancellor Roderick. "She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine!"

Okay, so Val Royeaux is... Rome? If the 'Chantry' was basically the Catholic Church and the Divine was the Pope, then it sounded like Val Royeaux was the capital of it, center of its system. Katerina had said Roderick wanted her tried still, but -

"I do not believe she is guilty." Cassandra's voice countered, firm, unyielding.

"The prisoner failed, Seeker. The Breach remains. For all you know, she intended for this outcome!?"

"She is barely more than a child!" Okay, I'm 17, I'm not a fucking kid. Granted, Cassandra was probably around Carol's age, so that... that made sense for her to say that, but Amy was technically old enough to drive and - she wasn't just some snot-nosed little eight year old brat.

"She is a mage, and they are all dangerous regardless of age!"

"She is not a mage. Whatever her abilities are, they are not magic. They do not draw upon the Fade."

No, they're from... wherever the fuck powers come from. God, another place her sister would be able to explain things so much better. She could at least offer the theories about the origins of powers. Amy didn't even have that much - just a few half-remembered details from her power testing, and all the times Vicky talked about what she learned about powers - her sister's excited sharing of that stuff tended to blend and blur in her mind.

Amy stilled, listening to the conversation for a moment, standing in front of the door, reaching, but not quite touching the doorknob.

"You speak the impossible as if it is so simple, Lady Cassandra! How can you be so sure?"

"I am a Seeker. Just as Templars, we know when magic is used, and when it is not. She is not a mage, and she was not behind the destruction of the Chantry, or the opening of the Breach." It was nice to know that the woman didn't think she was guilty, but Amy could have used that belief earlier. And how much of it was because people apparently thought she was... holy or blessed by God - or the Maker, they called him here.

"That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to serve the Chantry." And no one is in charge right now.

"My duty is to serve the principles upon which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours." Cassandra corrected him. That sounded like something her mother might say, about the PRT. Carol and Aunt Sarah didn't really... trust the PRT. too institutional, too concerned with its own thing, long-term structural stuff to really care about principles. Too willing to... just let things stick.

The fact that Empire 88 was still running around in the city after all they'd done was proof enough of that for Carol, for Aunt Sarah. For Amy too, really. She'd healed too many people attacked, beaten, broken by those fucking Nazis to not understand intimately how destructive they were for the Bay.

Amy took one last breath - Roderick didn't seem to be saying anything so she wasn't going to interrupt, and she couldn't just stand out here the whole time.

She pressed the latch of the door and pushed against it, opening it inwards, revealing a smallish room lit by candles and torches, filled bookshelves built into the walls, a table at the center of the room, with books and maps spread out on it.

There were seven people in the room, which was almost too many for the space - Roderik, standing at one end of the table. Two guards just inside the door, where she stood now, helmets covering their faces. Leliana and Cassandra, standing on the other side of the table from the entrance, Cassandra bent over, examining something on a map, Leliana's arms crossed in front of her.

The other two, Amy hadn't seen before. One was a tall, tired-looking man with short, curly blonde hair. He wore armor, heavier than Cassandra's, with... big furry bits on his shoulders. Maybe part or a cape? It looked ridiculous, but it was also probably pretty warm. Which right now, sounded really nice.

The inside of this building wasn't cold - all the candles and torches and insulation from the stone probably - but outside? And what would it be like at night?

Amy guessed that was Commander Cullen, which meant that the other one - a dark skinned, attractive woman, with dark hair and wearing a yellow silk shirt, with poofy-shoulders, right out of a period drama, and a purplish vesty-thing, a big gold necklace around her neck. She held an angled piece of wood with a candle on a flat bit at the top, unlit right now, paper on the wood... it made Amy think of a clipboard, which it... probably kind of was like, actually.

Josephine Montilyet then?

She barely had a chance to take everyone in - Cullen and Josephine were standing on the other end of the table from Roderick - before Roderick gestured at her aggressively.

"Chain her! I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial!"

Amy froze. The guards were completely covered in armor, so she couldn't touch either of them even if she -

"Disregard that, and leave us," Cassandra ordered, and Amy looked back and forth at the guards - who didn't seem to hesitate to obey Cassandra's orders, clasping fists to chests and leaving the room, closing the door behind them, making it feel a little less crowded, at least.

"You are walking a dangerous line, Seeker." Roderick said, a warning note to his tone, hands balled into fists at his side.

"The Breach remains, but it is still a threat, and one I will not ignore. She is the only one who might be able to close it."

"She is quite possibly the one who opened it, or at least working with those who did! Rebel mages are not above throwing apprentices into the fire!" Roderick snarled.

"I'm not a fucking mage!" Amy raised her voice. "I didn't blow up the Conclave - I wouldn't even know how to, let alone do it, and I barely even know what the Fade is, let alone how to open some stupid... rift in space-time into it or whatever the fuck the Breach is. Is this stupid fucking thing," she lifted up her left hand and pointed to it with her right, to the glowing lines of her 'mark', "the only reason you think I'm guilty?"

"You appeared from nowhere in the aftermath of the explosion, the only one found alive at the ruins, and 'coincidentally' have the ability to close the rifts opened by the explosion!" Roderick threw his hands up. "You cannot expect us to consider that mere accident!?"

"I'm not a fucking lawyer, but where I come from, I'm pretty sure a coincidence isn't enough to convict someone!" Amy snapped. "I didn't ask to end up in this medieval shithole where magic and demons and apparently fucking dragons are a thing, and I didn't ask for this stupid goddamned thing on my hand that feels like I'm being stabbed right through it any time I get near one of those rifts. And I didn't ask for all those people out there," she gestured behind her, "to start calling me a fucking - Saint or whatever the fuck it is they think I am!"

Amy didn't normally do this, didn't yell, didn't... verbalize her anger, but after everything that had happened - threatening Skitter and Tattletale at the bank had been unusual for her, but they'd both made her so fucking angry, and this whole fucking situation was insane on a scale that made the bank look like nothing.

It was be angry, or go back to crying, and like it or not (for the record, not), apparently people's lives depended on her. She had to focus on that.

"We know she wasn't involved because we saw the echoes of what happened in the moments before the explosion. Most Holy called out to her," Cassandra said. "For help. And she was not alone. There was someone else there, with her."

"Someone she did not expect, at that, and whoever it was, even if they perished in the explosion, they might have had allies." Leliana added, stepping forward. "Allies that remain."

Roderick let his mouth fall open. "I am a suspect?"

Turnabout is fair play, Amy thought spitefully, then shrank in on herself at the pettiness of the thought.

"It would not be the first time that elements from within the Chantry conspired with enemies of it to strike at the Divine," Cassandra said deliberately, sounding like she was hinting at something.

"Among others," Leliana confirmed. "As Chancellor, your authority in the absence of the Divine is significant. And Divine Justinia had many enemies among the Grand Clerics... most of whom refused to attend the Conclave."

Politics. Fucking politics.

Was this all some sort of power play? She remembered something like this, in a book she'd read once - a princess framed for the murder of her father, the King, and having to unravel the conspiracy among a bunch of the nobles to put her uncle on the throne as a puppet. It hadn't been as good as the Roaraxia books, but it had been fun.

And now it was apparently her life. She didn't know anything about this, but she was going to have to learn at least a little, right? At least enough so I know what the fuck to expect.

"But not her?!" Roderick said, incredulous, gesturing at her. "Not this false prophet you've raised up-"

"I have a name, jackass!" Amy glared at him, though with her hood still up, he probably wasn't getting a good enough look at her face to tell. "And I'm not a fucking prophet!"

"You were exactly what we needed in our darkest hour," Cassandra said firmly. "Providence provided you to us-"

"A psychotic tinker with more bombs than brains is the reason I'm here, not God or the Maker or whatever the fuck you call him."

"Your own 'Herald' denies your claims. And you hope to stand against the Chantry with her as your symbol?" Roderick scoffed. Cassandra opened her mouth to retort, but then the dark-skinned woman, Josephine, stepped forward and took this chance to cut into the conversation:

"Chancellor Roderick," she said in a calm, level voice, clearly trying to ratchet down the tension in the room. "This isn't about standing against the Chantry. But without a Divine, there is no one to lead it, and it will take time for the Grand Clerics to elect another. Time we may not have with the Breach remaining."

"And what right do you have to decide that it is you who gets to act, Lady Montilyet? Without the Divine, there is no one with that authority! What you propose is madness, anarchy!"

As he'd been speaking, Cassandra had stepped away from the table, retrieving something from one of the bookshelves, and returned with it, a heavy book iron in the cover, metal hinges built into it, clasped shut with more metal, and a the same sunburst pattern that had been on the doors of this building on it.

Cassandra slammed the book on the table hard enough to make it shake, the thud ringing through the small room. Roderick looked down at it, and then stiffened.

"You know what this is, Chancellor," Cassandra pointed to the book. "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act."

"You would risk-" Roderick started, but Cassandra cut him off.

"As if this moment, under the authority granted by the Divine to her Right and Left Hands by this writ, I declare the Inquisition reborn!" Cassandra stepped closer to Roderick, raising one hand up, not quite poking him in the chest as the man stepped back, away from her.

"We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order," Cassandra continued, voice firm, unyielding, her expression grim, set. Cullen didn't seem to have much of a reaction, and Leliana's expression was entirely unreadable, but as Amy's eyes darted away from Cassandra for a moment, she saw that Josephine was stiff, a little uncomfortable, judging from the grimace that passed across her face for a moment.

"With or without your approval!"

Roderick stared at her a moment, as if expecting Cassandra to say more, or to reveal she'd just been joking, but then he stormed out, wordlessly, slamming the door behind him.

Okay, so... what just happened. The room remained quiet for a moment, and Amy tried to work through what she'd just heard. Her eyes flicked down to the book. Roderick had sounded like he did know what it was, but didn't think having the 'Inquisition' be reborn was a good idea, which...

I mean, the only Inquisition I know about is the Spanish one, and I'm pretty sure they were a lot worse than that British comedy routine had them be. She vaguely remembered something about persecutions and torture from history classes.

"Well. Now that we've alienated what's left of the Chantry leadership, I suppose we should get to work on that," Josephine said, her voice chipper in a way that was obviously forced.

"We are not declaring war on the Chantry," Leliana said, as if chiding Josephine.

"No, you're just declaring them irrelevant," Josephine pointed out, "Which likely offends the remaining Grand Clerics even more. Invoking Divine Justinia's writ to reestablish the Inquisition- the implications-"

"It is the only choice. Without a Divine, and with Orlais in the middle of a civil war, and no peace forged between the Templars and the rebel mages, there is no one else who can be expected to do what must be done." Cassandra said, placing her hands flat on the table as she leaned forward.

"With what forces, Cassandra?" Cullen asked, speaking up. "What forces we have are those willing to remain that also survived the fighting against the demons after the explosion of the Chantry. We barely survived that battle. And now you propose we start a war - once we know who it is we're fighting.

"We did survive it, because of her." Cassandra looked to Amy. "You were able to close the rifts."

"Yes, but I'm not the 'Herald of Andraste'! I barely know who that even is, and I don't have the faintest idea about any of this! I'm not - I'm some fucking chosen one!"

"Believe what you will. No one is outside the Maker's will," Cassandra said firmly, without even a hint of wavering. Great. A true believer. "You were exactly what we needed, when we needed it.

"So you're going from holding me prisoner, chains and all, declaring me guilty on the thinnest of pretextes - you were going to fucking kill me in that cell - and now you're raising me up as some kind of holy icon!? Do you realize how insane that sounds!"

Anyone who tried to - anyone who tried to revere her or consider her sacred or worship or - they'd be rapidly disappointed to see it was her, not some divine prophet. Plain Amy.

Vicky wouldn't like being worshipped, not for long, but she'd know how to handle it.

"I was wrong to accuse you, and threaten you," Cassandra admitted. "I was lost in my grief and lashing out at the first target that presented itself. But you proved your innocence, and your courage."

"I'm not - I'm not brave. And I am not telling people that I'm sent by your - Maker." Amy insisted, pulling her hood down off her head, then crossing her arms in front of her.

"At this point, the idea has begun to take root, and if you continue to close the rifts, and eventually the Breach, people will believe it, regardless of what you say." Leliana said.

"Fuck me," Amy's shoulders sagged. She swallowed. She looked up at the ceiling a moment, then under her breath, very quietly, "What Would Vicky Do?"

"Your mark is the only hope we have of closing the Breach," Leliana added. "None of this will be possible without you. It is your choice, but if you do not aid us-"

"People will assume I'm guilty." Amy muttered. "Catch-22 if there ever was one." She pulled a hand down her face, letting out a long breath. "It's not like not helping was ever a choice. I can't - I can't just sit around and do nothing while people could be dying from something I can stop." Amy took in a breath. "But I'm not signing up for some - some fucking Holy War to persecute heretics and... burn pagans at the stake or anything like that. And I'm not telling people I'm the Herald of Andraste. If they want to believe it, I can't fucking stop them, but I won't lie."

"We are already at war. Someone destroyed the Conclave," Cassandra said, quietly. "The Inquisition of old restored order in a time when the world had gone mad, in the aftermath of the Tevinter Imperium's fall. They did not act mindlessly, or without care and caution - they punished blood mages and those who would kill innocents in the name of Andraste in equal measure."

Okay, so that... doesn't sound like an Inquisition.

"Then... as long as that's what's happening... not like I have a fucking choice anyway." Amy sighed. She looked at the map on the table. There were various flags pinned into it, marking specific locations. There was a mountain range with a series of pins, and the word 'Haven' marked by one of them. On the eastern side of the mountains, a country labeled 'Kingdom of Ferelden', on the western, a much larger one called 'Empire of Orlais', and then another one called 'Kingdom of Nevarra' north of Orlais and a region labeled 'the Free Marches' north of Ferelden, across what looked like some kind of sea.

The map cut off, but it looked like there was more continent than that to the north.

"So fine. I'm in." She took a breath. "And when this is over..." Amy paused, blinking rapidly, trying to make sure she didn't start crying again. "When this is over... promise you'll help me figure out how to get home." If it's even -

Amy cut that thought off. She had to believe she could get home. She had to believe she'd see Victoria again.

And if I tell myself that enough times, maybe I'll actually believe it. Hadn't worked for anything else, but-

Cassandra walked over to her and held out a hand. "If you can help us close the Breach and restore order, then when this is over, I will help you, if I can."

"Then I guess you have yourselves a healer and a rift-closer." Amy shook Cassandra's hand, then let her arm fall by her side. "But how exactly are we going to close the Breach? Why didn't it close before? And -" Amy sighed. "I'm just here for closing the rifts, the Breach, not all the politics and religion bullshit but - I - I need to know some of it, I guess." Vicky would want to know. She'd probably ignore half the nuances and charge in headfirst anyway, but she studied up on all the capes in the Bay, and beyond, all the time. Forewarned is forearmed. She'd want to know the details.

"What kind of mess did I land in the middle of?"

---

Author's Note: For those that haven't read Ward or even read the handful of excerpts I have, Roaraxia is the name of a series of fantasy books she read (and really liked) pre-triggering that is mentioned in a flashback in Ward. As I said, I take what I like from Ward, even if I'm not holding myself to it, and that was a detail I liked.

Also, the fact that the 'Common Tongue' of Thedas is English and uses the Romance Alphabet (and thus Amy can read it) is definitely all kinds of bullshit, but I really don't want to have to deal with Amy needing translation and being unable to read anything here in Thedas, so... I mean, travelling to Thedas via Bakuda-bomb is also kinda bullshit, so it's kind of part of the territory. Please go with it.

 

[fuddler]

I wonder if the first instance of Amy pushing her boundaries will be something like turbocharging the metabolism of animals like rams or druffalo to make them gain more weight so they can feed more people. Just funnel grass into the animal and have it convert to meat and fat at incredible speed, to help the starving people, as she can't do much healing if a people is emaciated.

As far as I know, Amy can't affect vegetation at all, which is why she would need to do a round about way of bulking them up, as she couldn't just transform trees into vegetables. It's part of her Manton Limit, I think.

 

[Kylia Quilor]

As far as I know, Amy can't affect vegetation at all,

Click to shrink...

As far as I am concerned, Amy can in fact do plants. It makes sense for her power and theres nothing in canon that ever says she *can't* do plants. There's nothing that says she /can/ so one can go either way. But Amy can do plants here.

Now, whether she could actually, say, make better food crops or something is more nuanced and complicated and runs into the fact that [Shaper] is a fucking prick.

 

[Katana_Master]

I wonder what Amy's reaction to Cole will be. On one hand, another darn Thinker trying to get in her head. On the other, someone who actually understands and is trying to help.

 

[Kylia Quilor]

On one hand, another darn Thinker trying to get in her head.

Click to shrink...

That's probably the part that will bother her the most.

 

[fuddler]

As far as I am concerned, Amy can in fact do plants. It makes sense for her power and theres nothing in canon that ever says she *can't* do plants. There's nothing that says she /can/ so one can go either way. But Amy can do plants here.

Now, whether she could actually, say, make better food crops or something is more nuanced and complicated and runs into the fact that [Shaper] is a fucking prick.

Click to shrink...

Thinking on this some more, wouldn't that sort of invalidate a lot of Amy's struggles? Not the family ones, those are an entirely separate matter, but at least her power struggles would be much less pressing if she could do plants.

Amy is an interesting character because she's rightfully scared of what her power can do, but still completely burnt out, overworked and depressed, desperate to do anything new with her power, at least subconsciously, but with no real opportunity to. She can't mess around with people because that's horrible and immoral, she can't just buy a lab-rat because Carol would notice, and she would need to justify it to her somehow, she could catch a rat herself, but then she would need to justify to herself all that effort just to experiment on a living creature, something she thinks is evil and selfish, so she would talk herself out of it, and she can't mess with bacteria because she could mess up and make a terrible virus by accident, so she has no real options.

If she could have, at any time, just bought a houseplant and given her self effectively infinite things she could mess with in a safe environment, then all her impressive self-control just feels silly. Even is Amy somehow wouldn't have thought of that because of her all-encompassing depression, surely she would have confided in Vicky at some point how drained she feels just doing the same thing day after day, though it's not like she would stop of course, that would be evil etc, and self professed power nerd Vicky wouldn't have been like "Why not mess around with flowers or something? Won't have to worry about hurting anyone then." then what excuse could Amy give to herself that would make doing that seem terrible, because I can't think of a reasonable one.

Though you are right, it doesn't say she CAN'T do plants anywhere, and by all right's if she can do flesh and bacteria it would make sense, but then shards can make whatever limitations they feel like, and excluding plants would then force the host to interact with living things instead of just messing with tree's all day, and Shaper could have just took a look though Amy's memoried for what she considered living things and saw that plants weren't on the list and excluded them.

Of course, this doesn't change this story, but I hope you have some kind of explanation for why she didn't ever just change a flower's colour or mess with how well it's cells hold water or something to relive stress, she could even do it without changing the way it looks to hide it from Carol.

 

[Kylia Quilor]

SNIP

Click to shrink...

I think you're applying too much logic to Amy's hangups, which are by definition not logical.

Amy doesn't want her power. She doesn't want to experiment, and she doesn't want to mess with plants. She's constantly afraid she's a monster once she finds out about her dad being a villain. There's also not much actual evidence that she has some inherent urge to experiment, though that's a reasonable supposition, but it's unclear if it's true or to what extent it is.

Also, I doubt Shaper would be happy with minor plant messing. The Wretch (and the Giants, from Ward) is likely more emblematic of what Shaper wants - not sure what the plant equivalent of the Wretch is, but it would be an abomination against God and Nature.

Shaper is going to hate Amy less once Amy starts branching out and experiencing the weird biology of Thedas, but making Shaper happy probably requires some pretty horrifying shit.

In theory, yes, if Amy could get over herself and use her power on plants constructively, she'd probably feel better about herself and her power - that is the basis for some excellent fics, such as "Her Bark is Worse than Her Bite" (wherein Amy makes armor and weapons for herself out of trees and discovers how therapeutic hitting bad guys can be) and "Amy Goes Full Nilbog" (where Amy starts messing around with fungi). But 'getting over herself' is a pretty tall order for Amy, IMO, and one that would require some pretty significant work on her part, or a circumstance that forces it or something like that.

So, ultimately, I don't really agree that Amy being able to do plants presents any issue for Amy's state of mind, personally.

 

[Groffin]

desperate to do anything new with her power

Click to shrink...

Cite a single instance of Amy in any way expressing the slightest desire to "branch out" with her powers.

Hell, cite a single instance of her enjoying it when outside forces twist her arm into "doing anything new" with her power at all.

Amy doesn't hate being a healer; she hates being a Cape at all. Healing is in actuality the only use of her power she is to any degree comfortable with, which is why she keeps voluntarily returning to drudge-work at the hospital or doing maintenance/oversight for a Wet Tinker as opposed to experimenting or producing weird shit herself time and time again, because not using her Power isn't a feasible option but she demonstrably has neither the inclination or aptitude to do anything esoteric of her own volition.

 

[Kylia Quilor]

Hell, cite a single instance of her enjoying it when outside forces twist her arm into "doing anything new" with her power at all.

Click to shrink...

My Ward reading friends have mentioned something about her experiencing like, a strange exhilaration when she was making the Giants, or something to that effect. Though Ward is only as canon to this fic as I want it, and that's at a much later point in her development anyway.

 

[Groffin]

her experiencing like, a strange exhilaration when she was making the Giants

Click to shrink...

That's out of interlude From Within-16.z and literally a split second after registering that sense of elation Amy had a crashout in front of a mirror accusing her shard of fucking with her emotional responses.

 

[Kylia Quilor]

That's out of interlude From Within-16.z and literally a split second after registering that sense of elation Amy had a crashout in front of a mirror accusing her shard of fucking with her emotional responses.

Click to shrink...

I mean, that's already a given, that Shaper is playing some role in how unpleasant she finds healing. It's just a question of extent and degree